


The Only Option

by EarendilEldar



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Ambiguous/Open Ending, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Guilt, Healers, Healing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Master/Slave, Modern Middle Earth, Modern Retelling, Physical Abuse, Poor Maedhros, Sexual Slavery, Unofficial Sequel, abusive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarendilEldar/pseuds/EarendilEldar
Summary: Fingon is investigating an underworld leader called Mairon, who is known to run sex-trade-based card games out of his home.  When he goes undercover, he doesn't expect the depths of what he finds there, or to fall in love with Mairon's badly-treated slave.Modern AU version of the Fingon-rescues-Maedhros story.Probably closer to "Mature" but rated "Explicit" for themes, mostly.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really different one for me, well outside the rest of my fluffy and/or angsty ME stories posted here. You've been warned! :)

No one ever tells you when you’re thinking of developing a fetish that you’re going to encounter a lot of unsavoury and often unscrupulous characters. It’s unfortunate and I’m sure a lot of people have suppressed their desires because of it, or – worse - come to accept dangerous habits and practices because of it. Many have been harmed, deeply. That’s why I asked to be assigned when an undercover case came up involving someone suspected of running a non-consensual BDSM ring. I was well-versed in the scene and would do whatever was necessary to get monsters like that out of it. 

The set-up was that I was to be introduced to the suspect – a Maia known throughout the underground as Mairon - through a poker game. That seemed to be the foundation of his ring and would hopefully lead to the prosecution of a number of his cronies. I could never have imagined how my life would change as a result. 

* * *

After proving my ability with cards in the relatively public game (and strategically taking a not insignificant loss in order to subtly ingratiate myself) I offered to buy Mairon a drink and made his acquaintance properly. I was a little surprised, and not a little wary, that he readily took up my opening volley enquiring where someone new in town might find edgier entertainment than mere cards. He asked about my specific interests and I readily told him I was looking for men who knew how to give pleasure and take discipline at the same time. Mairon smiled at me like a rabid wolf and told me I’d come to the right place. 

After interviewing (or was it interrogating?) me a bit further, he offered me an invitation to his home for a game the following week. These games weren’t generally played for anything as dull as money and though I didn’t have a slave of my own to offer for use in the stakes, he felt sure that my money would be acceptable until I had acquired one. 

Of course, the truth was that there was no way I’d ever bring a sub anywhere near these people, but they didn’t need to know that. Of course, it did also remind me of the fact that I hadn’t had a regular partner in quite some time. I’d been finding it difficult to connect with any submissives I’d encountered for years, at least in the way that I wanted to – a deep, enduring bond that wouldn’t end with the scene, but also something that didn’t turn into clinginess or codependency.

Well, not until this case was wrapped up, at least.

* * *

I’d been invited to come early before the game, which I expected to be for additional subtle, but perfectly cordial, interrogating. Ones like Mairon were always exceptionally charming to other Doms. When I arrived, I was shown into what could only be described as a glorified fortress – the thick stone façade and medieval weapons and armour displayed throughout the cavernous entryway would have put the Tower of London to shame. The butler/security guard was non-descript beyond being… big. 

I was offered a seat in the foyer, directly across from a rather spikey suit of armour. Rather obvious statement, but to be expected. As I sat there waiting for my host (in itself another obvious, expected statement), I became aware of a repetitive noise somewhere in the house. It was a sharp, cracking sound that was vaguely familiar but it wasn’t until I heard a long, stifled moan that I realised what I was hearing. I got the impression from that moan that the victim was used to being beaten, it was a sound only of pain, not of fear, but I thought I detected despair as well. That concerned me deeply, but I smirked to cover my concern in case the guard reported any reactions, as I was sure he would.

After a few minutes, Mairon came around the corner to greet me, only just removing his oxblood leather gloves to shake my hand. His long, dark red hair was bound back by a matching leather thong and gave him an insidious aspect. 

“Welcome, Fingon. I must ask you to forgive my delay, a few last moment details to be seen to. Come in and let me offer you a drink.”

I followed him to a large room set with the card table and a sizable bar built in at one end. There were a number of very comfortable looking arm chairs in front of the bar and he graciously offered me a seat, asking my drink preference. I had to play that right and walk a line between not drinking too much but not giving the impression that I was trying to go easy. I requested a gin martini so I could at least nurse it along. 

Mairon snapped his fingers twice and a door beside the bar opened. Whatever I expected next, it certainly wasn’t a tall, thin Elf with short-cropped red hair, brighter than Mairon’s, that matched the livid red welts on his bare back and legs. I struggled to conceal my shock and hoped I wasn’t already giving myself away. Mairon didn’t even look at his slave, just held up two finger and pointed at the coffee table between us. 

I did my best to pretend it was completely reasonable to beat one’s sub – in what I suspected was _not_ an enjoyable scene - and then expect him to tend bar. At a minimum, there was clearly no aftercare whatsoever, and the tall Elf did not wear the look of one who had just been to anything approaching sub-space. He looked miserable and broken. But beautiful. Gods, he looked _beautiful_ under all that. I couldn’t help wondering what he would look like satisfied and smiling, serving proudly instead of in fear.

The game that night was, frankly, rather dull. The other Doms in the game were clearly more interested in hearing about me and in putting away as much of Mairon’s liquor as they could manage. I didn’t need to make it a point not to win that night, one of the other players managed to get a lucky hand. It was just as well as I was having some difficulty concentrating on my hand and not staring at Mairon’s slave. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that there were old scars under the fresh red marks he bore and I hoped feigning tiredness and feeling the effects of the martini covered how that bothered me to my very depths.

As the other guests and I were leaving, Mairon caught my arm and ushered me aside. “You do look tired, my friend,” he observed smoothly, “perhaps you should not drive home. I have no lack of accommodation here, why not be my guest for the night?”

More testing, certainly. And yet, I couldn’t say it might not be exceptionally beneficial to my investigation. I accepted his invitation and thanked him for thinking of my well-being. He showed me up the stairs and to a spacious and generously appointed ensuite guestroom. Mairon crossed the room to the mirrored closet doors and opened them to reveal a stock of paddles, floggers, restraints, and who know what else. 

“I will have no use for my slave tonight,” Mairon said, smiling at me. “Perhaps you can make some use of him.”

I really hadn’t been expecting that and for a moment I wasn’t sure how to respond. I knew what was expected, though, and didn’t decline the offer. Mairon told me to make myself at home and that he would send the slave up at once. I stretched out on the huge bed and relaxed as much as I dared until I heard a very soft knock and called for my evening companion to enter. 

The tall, thin redhead stepped in, closed the door behind him, and immediately knelt there in the doorway, his head bowed low. Clearly used to very specific orders to be followed to the letter. 

“Come here, sit beside me,” I said invitingly, not demandingly. He rose at once and approached the bed, and though he looked quite hesitant to be seated by me, he must’ve deemed it a worse offense to disobey a Master than to break whatever the standing order was here. 

“There, that must be more comfortable,” I said, hoping to put him at ease. “What is your name?” I asked, since I had not heard Mairon or any of the others address him once that whole evening. 

He looked confused by my question, and murmured, as loudly as he dared I guessed, “I have no name here, sir.”

“How does he call you then?” I asked. 

“He only snaps or claps for my attention, sir.”

“Very well,” I sighed. “I am not like him, and I would know what to call you.”

He only bowed his head lower and whispered, “I should not speak it.”

Everything I learned about Mairon so far only made him a bigger monster in my eyes. Denying a sub his own name now! “Your Master sent you to me for the night, did he not?” I asked, trying the logical approach.

“Yes, sir,” the slave whispered.

“And so… if I say it’s my order that you should speak your name to me….”

He hesitated for a long moment, during which I wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t going to cave in upon himself. Then he whispered, even more quietly than before, “Maitimo, sir.”

No wonder Mairon refused him his name, being so similar to his own. And it certainly was a perfectly fitting name – well-formed one. “Thank you,” I said. “I expect you will have heard my name this evening, but I firmly believe in formal introductions in these situations. You may call me Lord Fingon. I get the impression you don’t do much speaking around your Master, but I happen to prefer to hear you.”

“Yes, Lord Fingon,” Maitimo responded.

“I’d also prefer to see your face not buried in your chest.”

“Yes, Lord Fingon,” Maitimo said, obediently raising his head, though staring straight ahead into the middle distance. At least it was a start.

“Is your back in pain, Maitimo?”

“No, Lord Fingon,” he said, though everything about his posture said otherwise. 

“Is it your training to answer what you believe is the expected response?” I asked him, an honest question, especially with a Master like Mairon involved.

“Yes, Lord Fingon,” Maitimo said quietly. 

“Alright, Maitimo. While you’re with me, the rule is to answer honestly. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t genuinely want to know. Can you do that for me?”

Maitimo closed his eyes and swallowed hard before nodded minutely. 

“I’d like to hear you say it,” I said, leaning forward.

“Yes, Lord Fingon. I shall answer honestly for you, Lord Fingon,” Maitimo whispered.

“Thank you. Now, about your back…?”

“Yes, Lord Fingon,” was all he said, but he needn’t have elaborated and I could see this was already taxing him. 

“I see. Were you given anything for the pain?”

“No, Lord Fingon.”

Of course not. Gods…. “Lie down on the bed, please. I’ll see to your back.”

Maitimo clenched his jaw and bowed his head slightly but moved to do as I asked. As I leaned in beside him he let out a short gasp and immediately bit his lip to stop any further reaction. 

“What’s wrong, Maitimo?”

“Nothing, Lord Fingon,” he answered immediately. My own fault for thinking years of abusive training could be undone in a single order.

“Please tell me, Maitimo. I have charge of you for the night,” I reminded him.

The tension in his body rose tenfold and he began to tremble. “I’m sorry, Lord Fingon,” he said, his voice raw. “Of course you must punish me as you see fit, my Lord. I’m sorry….”

This was breaking my heart more and more. I ran a hand over Maitimo’s far too short, far too dry hair, hoping to calm him. “I have no intention of punishing you. I wanted to alleviate the pain, not add to it. Is that what you thought I meant, ‘see to your back’?”

“Of course, Lord Fingon.”

I pushed away the hurt and anger that were burgeoning and took a few deep breaths before I rested my splayed hands on Maitimo’s back, ever so slowly stroking downward, over his well-formed arse and down his thighs. I couldn’t heal him as deeply as I wanted to, not in a few moments, but I could give him some relief and confirm that the scars I’d seen earlier were indeed long-faded lash marks. 

“Does that help?” I asked.

“Yes, Lord Fingon,” Maitimo murmured. “How would you have my obligation, my Lord?”

The implication was clear, and though I could certainly answer that a variety of ways, it didn’t feel right to contemplate using him in the way Mairon surely presumed I would. “I would have you lie beside me, Maitimo. Rest and sleep. The comfort of your beautiful, warm company would be very nice.”

He glanced up at me for the briefest moment before averting his gaze again. I must have been like a creature from another world to him. But, ever obediently, he replied, “Yes, Lord Fingon.”

“Would you like to undress me?” I invited, stroking his hair again and imagining what it must have been like long and healthy. 

“As you wish, Lord -”

“That wasn’t an order, Maitimo. It was a question, like any other. Would _you_ like to undress me?” I hated that he looked so confused by my asking about what he liked. It took a long moment, in which he looked at me probably longer than he looked at any Dom in years, before he answered.

“Yes, Lord Fingon,” he said, and rose to stand. He unbuttoned my shirt with such care, caressing the placket and buttons like they were the most precious things his fingers had ever felt. It was spellbinding, watching his long, pale fingers moving like that. As he slipped the shirt off my shoulders, more sensuously than I ever imagined possible, I realised this was his language, his way of thanking me for taking care of his back instead of beating him further. I could have wept or screamed for thinking of how Mairon treated this exquisite Elf. 

As he began to unbutton my trousers, I found myself exceptionally glad that I rarely wear a belt. Such a thing probably had terrible connotations for Maitimo and I didn’t want him to associate me with any of his fears. I also found myself more and more pressed to contain my response to his proximity. The beauty that I knew was veiled by his pain was shining brighter already and I could see the smallest beginnings of what he would look like proud to serve.

I caught his hands as he was slowly undoing my zip and just held them for a moment. “Would you like to kiss me, Maitimo?” I asked.

“Yes, Lord Fingon,” he answered, for the first time sounding both honest and unafraid to speak to me.

“Then I order you to do so,” I said, smiling.

Maitimo bowed his head (necessarily, as he stood several inches taller than me) and whispered, “Yes, my Lord,” before pressing his lips to mine. Gods….

* * *

We slept that night, nothing more. Maitimo had what I presumed was the first deep, healing sleep he’d had in years. His eyes were fully closed and his beautiful lips slack. It took me a while to fall asleep, having entirely too much on my mind, about Mairon, about Maitimo, about what I could do to get Maitimo away from here. I knew that if anything went wrong, if the case was blown and Mairon slipped the net, Maitimo would suffer exponentially for it. I could hardly bear thinking of it. 

Some time in the night we were wakened by shouting somewhere in the house. Mairon, most likely profoundly drunk and in a towering rage for no discernable reason. I just turned over and wrapped my arm around Maitimo to go back to sleep. That was until I realised how he was trembling. 

“What’s wrong, beautiful Maitimo?”

“He’s forgotten he gave me to you for the night,” Maitimo whispered fearfully. “He wants to beat me again….”

“Don’t worry about him,” I said softly.

“I think I’d better go, Lord Fingon, until he is satisfied. It will be worse in the morning if I do not.”

“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t want him beating you at all but especially when he is like that. I will remind him in the morning that he gifted me use of you for the night, and I shall say I used you quite well,” I grinned. He still looked afraid and I pulled him close, stroking his back. “A sub should never fear his Master the way Mairon makes you fear him,” I said, unable to hold back my opinion any longer. “A Master’s duty is to care for his sub, to nourish him and protect him. Does he _ever_ care for you, or have you known nothing but pain from him?”

“He only punishes me when I deserve it, my Lord,” Maitimo murmured. I almost reminded him that that was not what I had asked, but then he added, “The trouble is that I _always_ deserve it.”

“I find that incredibly difficult to believe. What could you possibly do to deserve the way he treats you?”

“It’s what I’ve not done, my Lord,” Maitimo said miserably.

“And what have you not -”

“I cannot please him, my Lord,” Maitimo said quickly. “When he wants to use me… nothing happens. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, I swear it, but he believes I am doing it to displease him. And so he punishes me.”

“It sounds to me like that is a problem that lies with him, not you,” I pointed out. And now I had a much clearer picture of what was wrong with Mairon. At least in part. I did wonder about one thing, though…. “Maitimo,” I said, reaching up to stroke his cheek, “do you desire to please him in that way?”

For a moment, Maitimo seemed to struggle for an answer, then said, “It is all I am meant for, my Lord.”

“Remember what I said earlier, about what _you_ would like?”

“Aye, my Lord….”

“Then let me rephrase the question: do you desire _him_ in that way?”

Maitimo looked me in the eye for the first time since I laid eyes on him, if only briefly, and I saw fear, grief, pain… revulsion in his eyes, but none of it directed at me. “No, my Lord,” he said simply, quickly lowering his gaze again.

“You are not his by your choice, are you?” I asked.

“No, my Lord,” he whispered.

I stroked his arm gently and asked him to tell me how he ended up here. 

“He took me from Master Findarato in lieu of payment,” Maitimo said quietly, his tone unnervingly hollow. “He fought to keep me away from Mai- Master, but in the end suffered for it grievously. I wasn’t sure he was even still breathing when they took me. I don’t see how he could have been, the way they’d beaten him….”

I filed that information away hoping it would prove helpful in the case. “Did you love him?” I asked, wishing that small part of me didn’t need to know.

“Not the way you mean, my Lord,” Maitimo said. “But he was a good Master, and I knew how to please him.”

“You please me, Maitimo, I assure you, you do,” I said, holding him in my arms. “Shall I tell you what I think the real reason for his treatment of you?”

“If you wish, my Lord,” Maitimo said, ducking his face against my chest. 

“I think you remind him of what he could never be. You’re beautiful, in many ways. He will not speak your name because it is too like his, only his is a wholly false name and there is nothing admirable about him, and your name is entirely true, beautiful Maitimo,” I said, stroking his hair. “Now, get some more rest tonight, while you can. That’s an order,” I said, kissing his cheek.

“Yes, my Lord,” Maitimo murmured.

* * *

Morning came all too quickly, though it seemed a gentle, grey dawn, instead of the blazing and beating sort. Maitimo was still asleep, curled up right against me. Again I thought how beautiful he was, and hated how Mairon abused him. I would get him out of there that very moment if I could, but I knew I had to be smart about it. I wasn’t sure how much longer we had before I was officially overstaying my welcome (though I expected Mairon wouldn’t be rising early after the amount of drinking he must have done during the night), but I thought perhaps I might be able to give Maitimo something to keep him going until I might be able to see him again. 

When Maitimo began to wake beside me, I stroked his cheek and kissed him. “I’m glad you were comfortable for the night,” I said, “because you being here made it a nicer night than I’ve had in years.”

Maitimo looked at me with sleep-bleary eyes and said, simply, “Thank you, my Lord.”

“Actually, I wondered if you would like me to express my thanks,” I said, lightly tracing my fingertips down his chest.

Maitimo’s eyes cleared at once and he nodded. “Anything you wish, my Lord,” he said, and I was ecstatic to hear the truth of that statement in his voice. 

I guided him to lay back as I kissed him deeply and shifted to straddle him. Far from ‘using’ him as Mairon had suggested, though, I intended to give every bit as much pleasure as I took. The feelings of his long legs wrapped around my waist and his long fingers clutching my shoulders were worth the price of admission by themselves, let alone his rock hard cock pressing against my abdomen. 

“I want you to come whenever you want to, Maitimo. Is that clear?” I breathed against his ear, making him shiver. It didn’t matter to me how long it lasted, I only wanted him to feel a bit of all-too-rare pleasure. 

“Yes, my Lord,” Maitimo panted and I knew he was close. And then he let out a low, stuttering moan and I quickly reached between us to stroke his cock. 

“Come for me, beautiful Maitimo,” I all but begged him, because I was just as close as he was and I wanted nothing but for him to take me over the edge with him. 

I don’t know how long we lie there together, tangled in one another and growing sticky. I didn’t care, either. In the back of my mind, I knew I’d just done something irreversible and I would have to find a way to get him out of this place, but I refused to allow myself to consider the rest of what was occurring to me. 

In an effort to pull myself out of my own mind, I cast about for a topic we might talk about. And then something occurred to me.

“Maitimo… I apologize, but I was remiss last night. Whatever we didn’t engage in, you were in my charge and yet I failed to see to the most basic preliminaries. We didn’t even discuss your safeword.”

For a moment, Maitimo looked worried, then he shook his head. “It makes no difference, my Lord. I have no hard boundaries and no safeword. And you asked… my Lord.”

“No safeword….” I don’t know why that stunned me, given everything else Mairon had done to and taken from Maitimo, but that seemed the worst abuse of all, somehow.

“No, my Lord. I mean, I told him the one I used with Master Findarato… and he told me that any time I chose to use it with him, I’d pay for it threefold. He didn’t lie, and I never used it again after that once.”

Now I was more than angry about Maitimo’s treatment. I was genuinely worried. All I could do for the moment was to hold him close. 

“I understand next week’s game is to be played for the same stakes,” I said conversationally. “If you are serving drinks again, mix mine lightly. Very lightly. Because I would like to win time with you, so I will benefit from a clear head. And then, perhaps, we can not only discuss safewords and limits, but find something you might enjoy that would make a safeword a good idea to know.”

* * *

That week was excruciatingly slow. I hated having to wait to see Maitimo and I hated the thought of what Mairon might be doing to him in the meantime. When at least Saturday came around, I arrived at Mairon’s at the normal time for starting the game, rather than early. Maitimo was stationed behind the bar and looked only slightly less miserable than he had at that first game. I did notice that his back was not reddened, though, and that comforted me. I ‘ordered’ him to make me a double gin and tonic, as haughtily as I thought I could pull off while still hoping my gaze told him how glad I was to see him again. He must have known, because my drink had no more than a splash of gin. 

It was about halfway through the game when one of the players mentioned how blank Maitimo’s back was and enquired as to whether Mairon was growing lenient with him. Mairon just smirked – one of the most malicious sights I’d ever seen – and snapped at Maitimo, who moved swiftly from the bar to kneel beside his Master, head bowed low. 

Mairon then snapped twice and Maitimo rose to stand. Mairon grabbed his arm and turned him roughly, bending him over at the same time and spreading him to display. He looked like he’d been literally fucked raw. I hoped no one noticed my wince. Another player laughed and commented how enjoyable that work must have been. 

Mairon sneered. “This wasn’t enjoyment, it was punishment. As it always is with _that_. If anyone’s interested, I shall show you the device when we’re done here. It’s of my own design and making. It can hammer away for hours, as you can see,” he snickered, shoving Maitimo away from him and ordering him back to the bar at the point of his finger.

Fortunately, my plan worked and I won the ‘use’ of Maitimo for the 12 hours, though that use didn’t extend to taking him off the property. I’d known that, of course. If I had been able to take him to my own home, I’d get him into safe hiding before anyone could blink. But I would have to be content with taking care of him and biding my time. 

Mairon invited me to use the same rooms I’d been afforded the week before. I went up and made myself comfortable. It seemed forever, but finally Maitimo knocked and I jumped up to let him in. He made to kneel as soon as I closed the door but I caught him in my arms and held him gently. 

“What did he do to you?” I murmured against Maitimo’s cheek. 

“You saw the result, my Lord,” Maitimo whispered, his face turned down still. “I beg that you allow me to please you some other way tonight, please my Lord.”

“Shh,” I soothed, stroking his cheek. “You cannot think I would even consider taking you like that tonight. If you will let me, I’ll do what I can to heal that. And then you shall get some rest.”

Far from being comforted, though, Maitimo began to tremble as he had when fearful the week before.

“Maitimo?” I pulled back just a bit and saw a tear slipping down his cheek. 

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” Maitimo whispered.

“What have you to be sorry for? It is you who has been -”

“It is my fault he did this to me. He asked me how you used me last week, and I told him. If I wasn’t so stupid you could have had me tonight. I’m sorry.”

“It is not your fault in any way,” I said, knowing it would take more than that to convince him. “I’ve missed you greatly all week, but not solely because I want to fuck you. I enjoy being with you, Maitimo, and I was genuinely happy last weekend when I woke with you in my arms.”

“Please let me serve you, my Lord. I want to make you happy,” Maitimo said desperately.

“Let me take care of you first, then we’ll discuss how you can take care of me,” I suggested.

“Yes, my Lord,” he murmured. 

I slipped my hand under his chin and tilted it upward. “There, that’s better, beautiful Maitimo.” I bid him lie down on the bed so that I could do something to assuage the latest abuse inflicted upon him. I pressed kisses all along his back to help him relax while I spread his cheeks and pressed my hand between them, wishing I could be doing it to excite and tease him instead.

“Does that help?” I asked after a few minutes.

“Yes, my Lord. Thank you,” Maitimo said. “You can use me now if you like.”

I shook my head. “No, you’re still healing. It will take time and you look tired tonight.”

“I’m sorry -” Maitimo started, but I ran my finger across his lips to stop him. 

“I want you to rest. It’s important to me.”

“Yes, my Lord,” he said, sounding deeply disappointed.

“Now, make yourself comfortable in bed. I’m just going for a quick shower to get this bloody cigar smoke off of me, and then I’ll come to bed and hold you close to me again,” I said, stroking his hair.

“Please, my Lord,” he called as I turned toward the ensuite. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked, reaching for his hand.

“Please… please let me serve you. I beg you, please!” Maitimo pled, clutching my hands in supplication. 

“Maitimo, I said I want you to rest and heal,” I said gently but firmly. 

“You won’t want me if I’m useless,” he whispered miserably.

Mairon had a terrible lot to answer for…. “Maitimo, your worth is not based on usefulness, and the value of my time with you is not measured by what you can do for me.”

“But I want to, my Lord, please!” he begged still.

I sighed, but nodded. “Alright. How about if you undress me again, because that was very enjoyable the last time, and if you’re not too tired, you can dry and plait my hair after I’ve showered.”

“Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord!” 

He seemed so relieved as he got up from the bed and began to unbutton my shirt with just as much care as he had the first time. “There’s one other thing I’d like you to do for me, Maitimo,” I said, stopping him.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“I’d like you to kiss me.”

Maitimo’s smile was the brightest I’d seen on him yet as he said, “Yes, my Lord,” and leaned in.

By the time I was done in the shower, though it was only a few minutes, Maitimo was sound asleep on the bed. I settled a blanket over him, pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, and whispered, “Sleep well, beautiful Elf.”

* * *

The next morning, I woke to the divine sensation of a tongue laving my morning erection. Gods, but his mouth felt good on me! I pushed back the blanket and ran a hand through his hair, but otherwise let him go on as he liked without direction. He needed none! Within moments, he had me at the edge, gasping out a warning that I was close. He didn’t stop and only took me deeper. I couldn’t have held back and grasped tightly at the bedsheets to keep from holding his head there on my cock. I didn’t know if that would scare him and I had no intention of turning something pleasurable into something fearful. 

“Gods, Maitimo… you are so good,” I breathed as he finished up and moved to lie beside me again. I loved the blush that came to his pale cheeks and hoped that indicated a bit of a praise-kink. I would gladly praise him all night long if he got off on that. 

“I wanted to make up for falling asleep last night, my Lord,” he said, but at least he didn’t apologize again. Maybe I was starting to get through the walls of abuse Mairon had constructed around him. 

“You needn’t have, not that it wasn’t incredibly good. You know, I promised you last time that we’d talk about safewords and limits. I’m sorry we didn’t get round to that, but I wanted to take care of you straight away last night.”

“It doesn’t matter, my Lord,” Maitimo said dismissively.

“It does matter, Maitimo. It matters greatly because it’s for your safety and that is my paramount concern.”

“But I know you won’t harm me, my Lord. You’re not like him….”

“I’m glad to know you see that in me, because, frankly, if he calls himself a Master it makes me ashamed to call myself one. But the fact is that I might do something accidentally if we don’t discuss things. I’m not perfect, after all. Just now, for instance, when you were sucking me. You certainly needed no instruction, but I have a habit of grabbing my sub’s head and face-fucking him when I’m about to come. That might have frightened you, though, and no pleasure would be worth that to me.”

Maitimo’s eyes went wide when I mentioned face-fucking and I was glad I’d been clear-headed enough to hold back. But then he said, “I would have liked it, my Lord,” with a tiny smile that was both shy and cheeky at the same time. He couldn’t possibly begin to know how much of a temptation he was right then.

I cleared my throat subconsciously at that delicious mental image and smiled at him. “Well, now I know, and the next time my cock is in your mouth, I will be sure to fuck your beautiful face as properly as it deserves.” Maitimo curled up beside me and I wrapped my arms around him, kissing that beautiful face. “Now… if you will tell me your preferred safeword, we can discuss some ways I might return the pleasure you granted me.”

“My safeword with Master Findarato was ‘silmaril’, my Lord. You don’t need to return the pleasure, though.”

“If you ever need to use your safeword with me, for any reason at all, I want you to do it, alright?” I said, keeping his eye contact so that he understood how serious I was. “But I should very much like to give you pleasure this morning, before I have to leave you again.”

Maitimo bit his lip and I quickly rubbed my thumb over the small mark. 

“You want to say something, but you’re afraid it will displease me,” I commented. “I wouldn’t have you hold back, Maitimo. I prefer you to speak freely with me.”

“Yes, my Lord. It’s just that… I think the reason he punished me the way he did last week was because I came for you. His device didn’t just injure me like you saw. I don’t think I could come for a week, my Lord. Not sure I’d have the energy anyway.”

Gods, Mairon was an insidious monster and no mistake, I thought. But that last bit sparked a new worry. I knew he was tired last night, but I thought it to do with the pain. Now I wondered if it was something else. As thin as Maitimo was when I first saw him the week before, I had thought he looked thinner still this week. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if Mairon was all but starving him. I held Maitimo close and stroked his back so that he knew I wasn’t displeased with him in any way. I began to think it was entirely possible that I might not be able to wait until Saturday to see him again. I had to do my best to keep cool, but if I had to get him out in a hurry, I would fight my way through an army of Balrogs single-handedly to make sure he was safe.

“Maitimo, where do you stay here, ordinarily?”

He glanced up at me for a moment before dropping his gaze again. “I have a small room, my Lord.” 

“Where is it located?” I asked.

“In the cellar, my Lord. But you wouldn’t want to go there. It’s very comfortable here.”

“I wasn’t considering it,” I assured him. “Just curious.” I could easily imagine that two couldn’t even fit in whatever closet Mairon might have grudgingly afforded him. Of course, the prospect of having to spirit Maitimo away at a moment’s notice raised the point that I would be as bad as Mairon if I attempted to do it without his agreement. And then there was the fact that I would take him with me in a heartbeat anyway, if he would be happy to come with me.

“Maitimo…,” I said, cupping his cheek, “do you think you would ever like to be mine?”

“Do you think you can win again next week, my Lord?”

“I don’t mean for the night, Maitimo. I mean for as long as you might wish to be mine.”

“How? Do you think you could win me outright? My Lord, it could be dangerous… if you lose -”

“Maitimo, I beg you, just tell me if you would wish it, if you would be mine. I need to know, one way or the other. Put me out of my misery.”

“I would, my Lord. I would, and I would be so proud. But please, my Lord… you don’t know how dangerous he is. It could cost more than you know.”

“Do you trust me, beautiful Maitimo?” I asked, holding his hand in mine, realising that he may no longer have trust at his disposal.

“I haven’t known you long, my Lord…,” Maitimo said, his eyes fixed on our hands. I started to tell myself that I knew that, but then he looked up at me. “But I know you’re worthy of my trust, and more, my Lord Fingon.”

That all but decided it, then. 

* * *

I managed to hold my cards close to my chest, as it were, though the week, but I spent a lot of time contemplating what Maitimo said about how dangerous Mairon could be. I wasn’t particularly worried for myself, despite what Mairon had done to Maitimo’s previous Master. It was Maitimo I worried about. Mairon already treated him abominably, and if I made a bid for him and lost… it didn’t bear thinking about.

I needed something else, something more reliable than cards. Something that wouldn’t raise suspicion or trip any alarms. I wasn’t above breaking a few rules, either; not when it was essence of my work as it was. 

When I arrived Saturday evening, I intended to discreetly press a little packet containing a certain powerful benzoid into Maitimo’s hand with the mouthed instruction ‘For your Master’. I had a similar plan lined up for the butler, but I could take care of that once the other one had kicked in. Only Maitimo was not behind the bar as he had been on the previous occasions. Instead, liquor bottles, mixers, and glasses were set out on the bar, buffet-style. 

Why would Mairon’s slave not be serving his guests? The horrible weight on my heart told me that that I should not have delayed through the week. It was going to be torture waiting until the other players were drunk enough not to notice their host growing muddled and the newest member of their group slipping out of the room with a cup of coffee and not returning.

Finally, I found the correct moment. Mairon started to rise from the table for a fresh drink and I offered to fetch him one with a top-up of my own. It didn’t take long from there, and when I got up next it was for a cup of coffee and to take it out to the butler with the excuse that the Master of the house was planning an extended night.

Then I went in search of Maitimo, my worry for him only increasing with every step. I knew it was most likely that he’d been confined to his ‘small room’, as he’d called it, for some invented offense. After a few wrong guesses, I finally found the door leading down to the cellar. It had all the charm of a medieval dungeon to match that grim entryway of Mairon’s and I hated to think of Maitimo being hidden away down there. 

I wasn’t sure I dared calling out, so I kept looking from door to door, counting no fewer than four separate wine stores, a boiler, a large workshop, and a root cellar before I got to the right door. It took a while for my vision to adjust, there was neither window nor bulb - scarcely more than a closet, as I’d guessed - but I knew he was there before I could see him properly. I could hear him breathing, a curiously loud sound, and more than that, I felt his presence, and it filled me with a white-cold dread. Something was horrifically wrong, and as my eyes grew used to the lack of light, I saw what.

Maitimo was barely conscious, beaten and bloodied all over, and his right wrist locked into a manacle bolted above him into the stone wall. It was the worst abuse I’d ever seen and for a long while I couldn’t even take it in. “Oh gods…,” I breathed, afraid I would be sick, and I knelt beside him. 

“No…” Maitimo whimpered as I reached toward him, though it sounded as though that small noise alone pained him.

“Maitimo, it’s me, your Lord Fingon…,” I whispered. 

“No…. No.”

“Shh,” I said, stroking on the only places on his cheek that wasn’t cut or bloodstained. “I’m going to get you out of here, right now. And I’m so, so sorry I didn’t do it before.”

“Go…,” Maitimo whimpered, his voice rough and broken. “He’ll kill you….”

“I can get you out. But you won’t make it if I don’t…. I can’t heal you of all of this, I don’t have that kind of healing in me. This is my fault, Maitimo, I’m sorry….” I had to force my tears back long enough to get him out. His fëa felt so weak under my fingers, I feared he might not survive long enough to get him to a proper healer as it was. “Where’s the key?” I asked desperately, searching the awful gyve that held him fast.

All Maitimo said, again, was “No….”

The longer I felt about the heavy iron, the more I began to realise that there was no lock, no place for a key. And those weren’t screws, either. Mairon had _bolted_ him to the wall. 

“Leave me,” Maitimo whispered.

“I am not going to leave you, not ever. I’ll find a way. Please trust me.” I wrapped my arms around him as carefully as I could, pouring out as much healing energy as I could find in me and frantically trying to figure out a way to get his arm free. My distress wasn’t helping my limited healing strength, but if I could just get him strong enough to survive getting out of here….

I thought perhaps I could find something in that workshop I’d come upon and hurried over there, returning with a crowbar and a heavy hammer. It didn’t make so much as a dent in the iron, but I kept trying in vain. 

After a while, Maitimo raised his head slightly and I guessed my healing touch had helped at least a little. “You won’t break it, not of his making. Please go. Please leave me here. He’ll find you….”

“I’m not leaving without you,” I swore to him. Just then I became aware of a distinct acrid smell in the air, like the cigars a few of the players smoked. I grasped the crowbar again and readied for a fight, thinking some of the ones who were merely drunk had come to find me. I heard no footsteps though, and noticed that the smoke had a much less floral scent than just tobacco. Something was burning in the house and the smoke was growing thick even down here. If I didn’t get Maitimo out fast we might both suffocate. 

“I’ll be back, Maitimo,” I said, carefully kissing his cracked lips. “I’m going to get you out of here.” Then I fled back up the stairs where the smoke was blinding. There were obviously no smoke alarms or sprinklers, no safety at all. I dropped to the ground and buttoned my shirt up over my nose and mouth, moving as quickly as I could toward the entryway, where I managed to prise a halberd off the wall, then hurried back down to Maitimo. 

“This may work better,” I said, getting a grip on the handle. 

“You won’t break it,” Maitimo murmured again. “Please go, my Lord. Leave me.”

“No, don’t ask it!” I cried, landing a heavy blow on the manacle. Not a scratch. The smoke was thickening now and the time and options were running thin. I looked desperately at Maitimo as a terrible option occurred and seemed the only thing that would get him out immediately. 

“Maitimo… if you never forgive me for this, I’ll understand…. But I love you, beautiful Maitimo,” I said, kissing him one more time before drawing the axe-head back and striking for his wrist. By the grace of the gods, it was a clean strike and granted Maitimo the mercy of passing out cold. I pulled off my shirt and wrapped the wound tightly, then lifted his tall, thin frame into my arms and got us out of that house as quickly as possible through the smoke.

I rode with him to the hospital and sat beside his bed night and day, clasping his hand and begging the gods that he would wake and not be terrified of me. I didn’t know if we would ever have a future now that I had inflicted something permanent on him, but I did know I would never regret getting him out of that monster’s clutches, or telling him that I loved him, if nothing else. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fingon refuses to leave unconscious Maitimo's bedside as he recovers from Mairon's abuses, despite his crushing guilt and fears that Maitimo will reject him once/if he wakes and remembers that it was Fingon who cut off his hand in attempting rescue. 
> 
> Including guest appearances by: Fingolfin, Turgon, Glorfindel, and Maglor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hadn't intended to write a second part to the original story, and not entirely sure if I like it, but it kept dragging me back... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

After three days and nights sitting awake beside someone who is alive but unresponsive, everything begins to blur and one learns with certainty the utter subjectiveness of time. I sat there, heedless of the coming and going of healers and their various assistants, ignorant of the time of day and state of the weather, neither eating nor sleeping. 

Eventually, I suppose I was deemed underfoot enough for one of the healers to try to prise me away with the lure of rest, promising that someone would stay there with Maitimo and fetch me at once when – if – he woke. I declined the offer. What would he think if he finally came out of his un-sleep only to find some stranger? I was already terrified that Mairon might have dealt his psyche a fatal wound, and knew that if he hadn’t there was every chance that _I_ had in my attempt to save his life, but just as I couldn’t leave Maitimo to die in that shackle, nor could I leave him to wake – if he woke – to a stranger.

The healers then went another route and decided to send in some of my fellows to talk me round. First came my captain, Aracáno, with commendations for my valour in getting ‘the victim’ out of there in time, and at great personal risk. Apparently, the fire was determined to be the result of a dropped cigar and once the flames reached the bar, most of that wing went up in the blast, caving in upon the cellar and on top of the cell in which Maitimo had been kept prisoner. It had only been minutes after I got Maitimo out of there. They could hear the blast when I radioed for help, even if I didn’t notice it.

I didn’t actually need to know that. It was clear that Mairon had intended Maitimo to die there, with or without the place burning down around him. It was an evil that I have still not come to terms with and don’t truly expect I ever shall. 

“I don’t think I can do this work anymore, Aracáno,” I told him. “I have too much respect for your leadership, you’ve been like a father to me… but you see how this has gone,” I said, staring at Maitimo’s bandaged wrist.

He clasped my shoulder and said, “You need rest, Fingon. Physical sleep, but also some significant downtime. There’s nothing wrong with that, I understand there is a lot of trauma here. But I know you, you’ll be back once you’re ready, protecting others -”

“You don’t understand,” I said, more bitterly than I’d intended. “For the love of the gods, I took his hand. Protect others? Eru! I could not protect him without maiming him!”

“You did what you had to in order to save his life.”

“I don’t think his life would have been in such danger if not for me,” I murmured.

“Mairon was a monster. You cannot -”

“I’m convinced Mairon knew. He knew I meant to get Maitimo away from there one way or another. Why else would he have fixed him to that wall as he did? I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but Maitimo is the only one who can forgive me for what I did to save him. And he cannot do that until he wakes, which he might never do, or never forgive me if he does wake.”

Aracáno sighed and stood up, his hand still on my shoulder and said, “If I’ve been like a father to you, then understand that I mean what I say now. I have never known anyone braver than you, Fingon. I know it’s not in my power to grant you the absolution you want, but know that I’m _extremely_ grateful that you both made it out of there. Where there’s life, there’s hope.”

With that wisdom, Aracáno left me to my vigil. His words might have rung hollow to me if I didn’t know what he’d gone through when Fëanáro, his estranged brother, was found dead a few years ago. 

I also might have known that it would only be a matter of time before my best friend and fellow detective also came by for a chat. Turo waited until the next morning, so I was that much more tired and disheveled, and my “brother-in-arms” has never been one to mince words. His greeting to me when he walked into Maitimo’s healing room: “You look more fucked up than he does.” Such charm!

“Your turn to try to get me to go home, huh?”

Turo shook his head though, before pulling up the free chair. “No. I know damn well you’re not going to if you don’t want to. Of course, I also know you’ll collapse eventually when exhaustion overrides your stubbornness, so I’m not that worried. Not about your physical health, anyway.”

Oh. Door number two, then. I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Let me stop you there, Turo. I don’t know how much you know or what the rumours in the bureau are, so why don’t you hear it directly from me? I had to cut off his hand to get him away from Mairon who had him permanently _clamped_ to the wall. Yes, I know, I saved his life. Yes, I know, he will recover and go on to live a full, happy life. Except, of course, if he doesn’t because of the hell he’s had to endure, including having his fucking hand lopped off by the one person he trusted in the middle of all that abuse.”

Turo looked at me sharply for a few long moments, then said simply, “You love him.”

Trust him to be so insightful. 

As I turned to respond to him, it struck me like a flaming arrow that that was the last thing I said to Maitimo while he was still sensible and suddenly I could no longer keep it together. Hearing it spoken aloud by another made it so much more real and valid than even my speaking it to Maitimo. And I broke down, weeping into my hands as Turo moved to wrap an arm around my shoulders. 

“I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t wake,” I whispered. “Or if he wakes and cannot stand the sight of me.”

“It could be weeks, months… years,” Turo said quietly, if not especially helpfully. “But you will get through it, eventually.” Gods… I might have remembered that Turo lost his wife years ago. He would know. “But think on this, Finno – you’re afraid he’ll be terrified of you. What if you are the only one who can help him work through what he suffered? You were there, you saw it firsthand. And you said he trusted you, despite what he was being put through. Maybe there’s something there, Finno. Something stronger than Mairon’s bonds.”

I’d already failed at breaking one of those bonds without permanently injuring Maitimo. Could I dare try breaking the psychological bonds Mairon had forged without doing irreparable harm?

I decided the safest thing was to steer the conversation away from me and Maitimo. I could much easier bear listening to Turo’s worries about his daughter’s taste in boys, which apparently were almost as bad as his sister’s. If nothing else, I was glad I’d never have those issues to contend with.

* * *

Turo was right about one thing – at some point that night, I fell asleep. I just wanted to close my eyes for a few minutes, and the next thing I knew, morning sun was filling the healing room. There was a tall, blond healer across the room pouring steaming water into a bowl. I recognized the slightly astringent floral scent of athelas well enough. 

“Good morning,” the healer said, seeing me stirring. “How’s your back?” he asked sympathetically. 

As I started to sit up from where I’d laid my head beside Maitimo, I realised the question was a rather perceptive one. “It’s been happier,” I grumbled, “but my neck feels as if it will splinter if I dare turn my head….”

“Hardly surprising,” the healer said with just that bit of smugness healers always seem to have about them. “Mine protested for days after I slept like that in my husband’s healing chamber. My name is Glorfindel. Allow me to ease that for you?”

I started to nod and bit back a groan. The healer just smirked and stepped over to press his hands against the back of my neck until the stiffness subsided. 

“What happened to him?” I asked quietly as he worked, my eyes fixed on Maitimo’s face where the bruising was fading and the cuts beginning to heal.

“Injured and knocked unconscious, nearly drowned in his own damned fountain. I was worried sick about him.”

“He woke, though?”

“Aye. His body needed the rest, and I knew that, but it is always frightful when it’s one you love.”

“I’m still so afraid he won’t wake…,” I whispered.

“I’m fairly certain he will, before long. He’s got a very strong fëa.”

“I know. It’s what makes him so beautiful,” I said, reaching out to stroke that bit of skin left unmarred by Mairon’s cruelty. 

“He may have some of those scars all of his life,” Glorfindel said, sitting beside me. “There seems to be an element of malice with which they were inflicted. The wounds heal, but he bares old scars that would ordinarily have long since disappeared. I suspect it was a substance on or _of_ the article which caused the wounds.”

I nodded, already knowing that they would be like the scars on Maitimo’s back. “I don’t care about that. I just want the scars to his fëa to heal and let him be free of shadows.”

Glorfindel put his hand on my shoulder and said, “He’ll need help for that. You have some healing power in you, and I think his fëa recognizes yours. But you’ll be best able to help him if you take care of yourself.”

I took a deep breath, grateful for the healing he’d offered for my neck but still determined to stand my ground. “If you’re trying to tell me to go home -”

“I’m not,” he said quickly. “I think you should stay. I believe it’s good for him to have you nearby. But you do need to eat and sleep regularly. A hot bath does wonders, too.”

Considering that I still smelt faintly of the smoke I’d battled through to get Maitimo out of that nightmare, I supposed he wasn’t wrong. 

“Why don’t you go on down to the bathing pools? I’ll have fresh clothes sent down to you and something to eat when you get back here. I’ll see what I can do about getting something a bit more comfortable than just these chairs as well.”

It was the most tempted I’d been to leave that room yet. I almost started to nod, but looking at Maitimo….

“I’ll stay here with him myself,” Glorfindel said. “I know he doesn’t know me, but I don’t truly expect he’ll wake in the next half an hour. At least not in such a way that he’d be able to identify anyone straight away. It’ll be fine, I give you my word as someone who’s been in your place.”

With a sigh, I accepted the offer, promising not to be long in the baths. I couldn’t deny feeling much better after bathing, and true to his word, Glorfindel had a plate of fruits and nuts along with a pot of lavender tea waiting when I returned. A few moments after I came back in, a couple of assistants brought a chaise into the room that looked altogether too decadent for a healing chamber. 

“Take it easy, alright?” Glorfindel said to me, a hand on my back. “He’s not the only one healing, you know.”

Glorfindel left then and I sat down again beside Maitimo, picking at the food on the tray. It hadn’t occurred to me before then that I was in the healing process too. Oh, they’d given me a going over when we arrived, made sure the smoke didn’t do me too much damage, but… the rest of it? And, yes, perhaps I would have to be a little more conscious of myself at times if I was to have any hope of helping Maitimo. If he would want my help.

That afternoon, I found my eyes growing heavy after I’d had a small afternoon meal, so I laid down for a while on the chaise. When I woke, there was someone else sitting beside Maitimo and holding his hand. I felt a momentary surge of jealousy as this newcomer was clearly not a healer, but then I focused and could hear him speaking softly to Maitimo and calling him ‘brother’. I made a point of taking a deep breath and sitting up so that he knew I was awake and not attempting to eavesdrop. 

The younger Elf turned slightly and smiled apologetically at me. “Forgive me, I hope I did not wake you. I suppose it is foolish, speaking even quietly to one who is not currently sensible.”

I shook my head. “You did not wake me, I’m sure. And it may be foolish, but I do it all day as well.”

“Are you the one who found him?”

“Yes,” I said, not feeling the need to elaborate on that response. I got up and offered my hand. “Fingon.”

“My name is Maglor, and I am in your debt,” he said, taking my hand. “He’s my brother. I haven’t heard from him in several years. I’ve been so worried and hoped so that my fears were baseless….”

“We always hope our fears are baseless, don’t we?” I said, taking the other chair. 

Maglor sighed and glanced at Maitimo again. “The detective I spoke with said that you rescued him at great personal risk.”

“That’s immaterial. There wasn’t any other option as far as I was concerned. I would sooner have died in that fire than considered leaving -”

“Forgive me, but I’m not speaking only of that fire. I’m aware of my brother’s lifestyle, to a certain degree, even if I don’t share it or claim to understand it. Our other brothers cannot abide it, but I know he’s no different and certainly not _weakened_ by his desires. I know that he had been with someone who was… good for him, because we talked regularly then. But I guess something changed and he ended up with someone….” Maglor’s gaze fell on Maitimo again and I could tell that the word ‘abusive’ seemed a horrible understatement. I did not disagree. 

“Are you involved in that lifestyle as well?” he asked me, catching me off-guard.

“Yes,” I said, not particularly inclined to elaborate on that either.

Maglor didn’t say anything for a long moment, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, I realise that’s a deeply personal question.”

“It’s alright. You’re concerned about your brother. I understand. There isn’t a lot I can tell you, other than sometimes things go poorly in these relationships, as with any other. We’re all fallible. What happened here, however, was not that, not in any sense. It had nothing to do with… our lifestyle. It was criminal and horrific. The monster that did this to your brother was no one’s idea of a real Dominant.”

“You don’t have to justify that to me. I know that much. And I can see very plainly that you are not the sort of man who takes joy in cruelty.” 

I looked up at Maglor and began to nod my thanks. Then he spoke again.

“And you love my brother, else you would not be here. And I’m glad of that.” I wanted to say something, but then Maglor rose. “Perhaps I can come again when my brother is with us once more. For now, know that you have my gratitude.”

“I will see that you are sent for immediately when he comes round. Whenever that may be.”

Maglor nodded and squeezed his brother’s hand, then left. I couldn’t say how I felt. I was glad that Maitimo had someone who cared about him besides just me, but… over the last few days, I’d foolishly imagined that I could convince Maitimo to come home with me when he was ready, that I could somehow ‘win’ him back and get him through everything, just by loving him. But now, Maitimo had a brother who could take care of him; someone who loved him and _hadn’t_ performed an impromptu amputation on him. 

Despite feeling so much better that morning, by night I felt despondent and, admittedly, sorry for myself. Through all of this, since that first night when I helped heal his beaten back, I felt a connection with Maitimo, and that morning when we fucked I knew immediately that I loved him and that it went deeper than lust or a crush. For me, at least. I also knew that one rather short sexual union in extraordinarily unideal circumstances was highly unlikely to forge a bond. It rarely happened like that except in old stories and that was probably all made up, romantic non-sense designed to convince us of our own ‘continence’. My feelings for Maitimo could be entirely one-sided and totally in vain. 

Eventually I decided to stop sitting there, staring at Maitimo and wondering what getting on with my life without him would entail. I leaned in to kiss his lips – which were much less dry and cracked thanks to some sort of salve the healers used – and bid him a healing night’s sleep. I couldn’t help whispering, “I love you, beautiful Maitimo,” before I went to lie down on the chaise and hope to clear my mind enough for some rest.

* * *

When I woke, I wondered how early it was yet, for the room was still dim and grey. After a moment I realised that was because the skies were pouring with rain. I made to turn over and let the soothing rush lull me back to sleep for a while but then I heard something that stopped me. A soft, almost gasping sound. When I looked round, I saw one corner of Maitimo’s bedsheet drawn up, clenched tightly in his hand. 

I jumped up and ran to his bedside. He seemed more fitful than awake but hope flared in me. “Maitimo?” I whispered, my hand a hair’s breadth from touching his. “Can you hear me?”

His breathing hitched, like an audible flinch, and I dropped to my knees beside the bed, thanking the gods, as I was happy to take that as a response. “Maitimo, it’s me… Fingon. Don’t be afraid, Maitimo, you’re safe. Everything will be alright now, I swear it. I’m going to call for a healer and let them know you’re with us again.” 

I scrambled up again before carefully kissing Maitimo’s forehead and then running out into the corridor. I spotted Glorfindel just coming around the corner and waved frantically to him, as I suspected shouting was rather frowned upon in such a place. “He’s waking,” I said urgently as Glorfindel hurried up to me. 

Glorfindel clasped my shoulder and said, “Didn’t I tell you? Thank you for alerting me. Come.”

I sat by as Glorfindel carefully prised Maitimo’s fingers away from the blanket and held it for a moment. Then he took a few leaves from his pocket and put them in Maitimo’s hand. He pressed one hand to Maitimo’s forehead for a few moments and nodded. 

“Why don’t you take over?” Glorfindel said to me. “I’ll be back in just a moment.”

I shifted and put my hand over Maitimo’s, what I guessed passed for taking over for a proper healer in this case. Maitimo was breathing easily now and he seemed no longer fitful or distressed. “All will be well now,” I murmured to Maitimo (or possibly to myself) again. 

Maitimo’s hand shifted beneath mine, as if he was trying to grasp at the blanket again, and I put my left hand under his. He gripped it with more strength than I’d have imagined someone nearly comatose would have. Maybe he didn’t even know who I was in that moment, but I was there for him to hold my hand when he needed it and that eased more than one wound to my fëa.

When Glorfindel returned, he brought a bowl and kettle and placed the athelas water on the bedside table. I moved to stand to let Glorfindel attend Maitimo, though I didn’t let go of his hand yet, but Glorfindel’s hand on my shoulder stopped me. “Stay. The athelas will help soothe his awakening, but there’s nothing more I need do here. He has all he requires now. I’ll stay nearby if it reassures you, but I think you’ll find you won’t miss me.”

After a while Maitimo’s grip on my hand began to relax, though he didn’t let go and neither did I. He seemed to sleep, if it could be called sleep, more comfortably now and the beauty that I saw in him from the first moment was glowing now more plainly than it had yet. In spite of the visible injuries he bore, Maitimo looked healthy, not like someone only awaiting the call of Nämo. 

The rest of the morning went by with little change. I was convinced to take some tea and toast, easy enough that I didn’t have to take my hand away from Maitimo’s. It was early in the afternoon when Maitimo’s hand began to tighten on my mine again. I shifted a little closer and carefully brushed my fingertips across his forehead, checking to see if he was alright. He seemed to respond to my touch by inclining his head toward me just slightly and I nearly turned to call for Glorfindel but Maitimo’s lips parted and he took a short breath, the sort that one only takes consciously and deliberately. 

“Maitimo?” I whispered hopefully. His hand grasped mine a little tighter, as if to say ‘Yes, I’m here’. 

“You can hear me?” I asked, and again he squeezed my hand. I bit back hard on tears of relief, but a few slipped out anyway. 

“Do you know me?” I murmured faintly and again he gripped my hand harder than I thought he would be capable of at that moment. 

“I can’t tell you how glad I am of that,” I whispered, starting to lose the battle against tears. “But you need to rest still, alright? The healers won’t be pleased with me if I tire you out with conversation so soon.”

Now Maitimo grasped my hand almost frantically, so much that his hand trembled from the effort. “It’s alright,” I said, stroking his hand softly. “I won’t leave if you don’t wish me to.”

Maitimo breathed an exhalation and I could just catch the word ‘please’ carried on his sigh. A part of me broke yet again and I knelt beside his bed, holding his hand between mine. “Maitimo, I will not leave your side until you say or indicate that you want to me to go, but still you must rest. Perhaps we can work out a system… squeeze my hand once for ‘yes’, twice for ‘no’?”

He squeezed my hand once. 

“Alright. Are you in pain?”

Once again, thankfully.

“Do you need for me to call one of the healers, for any reason?”

Twice this time. 

“You wish me to stay?”

Again he squeezed my hand just once, but strongly, and again I wanted to weep. I pressed a kiss to Maitimo’s fingers and murmured, “Then I stay, and nothing shall shift me. Rest, beautiful Maitimo, be at ease. You are safe here.”

Maitimo squeezed my hand again and then seemed to relax. There was so, _so_ much I wanted to say to him, but I knew I needed to wait until he was better rested. Doubts began to steal upon me again that maybe when he was more awake and focused, Maitimo would decide he didn’t want me in his life after all. I could only tell myself that whatever state he was in, he wanted me here now and so here I could only be, as I had promised him. 

Maitimo slept soundly throughout the day and I stayed beside him. Glorfindel stopped in again in the evening when my supper was brought in. He had under his arm a small harp, which he asked me to hold momentarily while he checked on Maitimo’s progress. I couldn’t have said how long it had been since I’d last taken up my own harp at home. I used to play it frequently, especially after long or difficult days. My fingers brushed the strings, almost of their own accord, and I thought of how healing it would be just to make music again. 

“You are musical too, then?” I asked as Glorfindel straightened up from his examination. 

He only laughed, though. “Not in the least. My husband weaves the most exquisite enchantment with a flute, but I cannot play a note upon anything. I brought it for you, actually. It’s come to my attention that you play well, and considering how you caress those strings, I can see the truth of it. I think it will benefit both of you.”

That night I sat up far too late, softly playing while Maitimo slept. I didn’t sing as I often do, though. I was too choked with the tears of healing. 

* * *

In the morning, I once again went for a quick bath while one of the healers changed Maitimo’s dressings. I had not yet been able to look whenever they tended his wrist and tended to avoid thinking about it as much as possible. There was tea and toast and fruit waiting for me when I returned. I ate lightly, rather more interested in picking up the lap harp again. 

I played for some while again after eating. I found it much more relaxing than it was the night before. I suppose I’d got through the wringing bit of healing music and gone on to the soothing. At some point, I found myself playing an old song that I remembered from my youth. It was an easy tune that readily lent itself to repetition and could be played for hours. I don’t know how long I’d been playing that particular song, maybe half an hour of letting my thoughts wander the paths of daydream, when I glanced up and my fingers faltered on the strings. 

Maitimo’s eyes were open and clear with wakefulness, if not yet vigour, and he was watching me. 

I quickly set the harp aside and reached for his hand. “Maitimo…. I’ll fetch a healer,” I said, though I hardly wanted to move away.

“No,” Maitimo murmured. “Please… stay?”

“Don’t talk too much yet,” I said, stroking his cheek where one of the bruises had faded to nearly nothing. “You ought to rest your voice until you’ve had something to drink.”

“Yes, sir,” Maitimo whispered.

I know it was mostly habit, but hearing him address me as a Dom stopped me in my tracks. “Maitimo, I… I don’t think I have the right to be called that by you. Not at the moment.”

Something in Maitimo’s eyes faded as he looked away from me then let his eyes fall closed again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know I’m too broken for you now.”

“Oh, Maitimo, no… that’s not at all what I meant,” I said quickly, gently grasping his hand. I’d have given almost anything to permanently vanquish that thought from his mind. “It’s just that….” 

Gods but I did not want to talk about this! Could I just put it off by saying he needed to rest, that I shouldn’t bring up difficult things now, while he still had so much healing ahead of him? If he thought my hesitation was because of him, then no, I could not. 

“Maitimo, maybe you don’t remember how I got you out of there.” Would that he might never remember! 

“Does it matter?” Maitimo murmured.

“Yes. I’m afraid it does. Because you have every right to hate me for it.”

“Hate you? How -”

“He had you fastened to that wall,” I said, trying to keep my voice from breaking as I remembered seeing him there, beaten and bloodied. “And I couldn’t break the manacle or unbolt it. And there was a fire, everything was filling with smoke. There was no time and the only way I could get you out meant… cutting you free. Your right hand. Maitimo, I had no choice, but I’m so sorry….”

Maitimo turned his head and looked down the shortened length of his arm that ended in bandaging. He said nothing for so long and I wished with everything in me that I could have simply taken advantage of the oblivion his ordeal had granted him and lied and told him Mairon had done it. It wasn’t as if a lie would have been unfair to Mairon, but losing any chance I might have had at Maitimo’s love certainly felt unfair to me.

“You did this?” Maitimo murmured.

“Yes,” I said, doing my best not to sound thoroughly sorry for myself.

“To save my life.”

“If there had been more time, I could have done something, I know. But you would have suffocated in the smoke -”

“You got me away from him….”

“I should have done it so much sooner. I’m sorry, Maitimo.”

Finally Maitimo looked back over at me. The tears tracking down his cheeks ripped my heart out and I braced for him to tell me to leave him alone. 

“You saved my life… but you can’t be with me now, because of this?” Maitimo said, raising his right arm.

“No, I _would_ be with you, because you’ve got the strongest, most beautiful fëa I’ve ever known.”

“Then why do you apologise, if not to tell me that what you had to do to free me makes you no longer want me?” Maitimo asked desperately.

“Because I failed you, because I underestimated the depth of Mairon’s evil, because I… I _took_ a part of you and nothing I can do can return that to you. Because I don’t know how or if I could ever atone for it. Because… because I have the terrible feeling that Mairon knew I meant to get you away from him somehow. Maybe I was more obvious than I thought in my intentions. But I failed terribly, and it’s you who’s suffered for my failure.”

“It was never because of you,” Maitimo whispered. “It was what I found.”

“What do you mean, Maitimo?”

“You won’t understand,” he murmured, sounding weary. 

I wondered if I should have called for a healer or told Maitimo he still needed rest and certainly didn’t need the weight of my guilt, but I couldn’t bear letting him believe for a moment that anything Mairon did to him was his fault. “If you tell me I can only promise I’ll try to understand,” I said, holding his hand.

I saw and felt a kind of pain rise up in Maitimo that I hadn’t seen in him even when he was hanging upon that wall bleeding. I couldn’t imagine what he might have found that could have caused any of this. 

“It was what I found about my father in Mairon’s records. Apparently my father was a Dom, too, and he and Mairon were rivals. There was another Master called Melkor with whom they were both involved. He outranked them both, and favoured Mairon. He stole work from my father and then had Mairon kill him. That was just before Mairon took me from Master Findarato. Mairon had found out I was Fëanáro’s son. It was never you. You’re the only reason I’m alive.”

Fëanáro…. Aracáno’s estranged brother. I couldn’t begin to know what to say, I had been so convinced that Mairon’s final cruelty was my fault. A part of me wondered if Aracáno knew all along that Mairon had his nephew and was responsible for his brother’s death. It didn’t matter, though. All that mattered to me was Maitimo. 

“Maitimo, I will never be sorry for getting you out of there, no matter what I had to do. And I will never be sorry to have known you, for however long. But it is not for me to say whether knowing me has been good for you.”

Maitimo was quiet for a long while. Then, closing his eyes, he said, “That last morning when we were together, you asked if I would ever want to be yours, and I told you truly that I would. Then you asked me if I trusted you, and I said that I did. Later that week, when Mairon caught me with his record about my father, I knew that my punishment would ultimately be death. When he bolted that manacle into the wall, I wept because I knew I’d never see you again and wished I’d told you that I loved you….”

I dropped to my knees beside Maitimo’s healing bed and I couldn’t stop my tears. “Do you remember, Maitimo, what I said to you just before I had to do this?” I said, my voice tight and raw, as I reached out to touch his right arm. 

He just shook his head. 

“I told you that I loved you,” I whispered. “And I do, Maitimo. I love you with every breath in me. I wanted to ask you to come stay with me when you’re well enough, if you wish it. But maybe you’d rather go with your brother – he came to see you – and I understand if -”

“Would you have me?” Maitimo asked, sounding as though he feared to raise his hopes. 

“Forever, Maitimo, or at least, as much of it as you would have me,” I vowed.

“Then please let me stay with you!” Maitimo begged, grasping for my hand.

“Oh, my beautiful Maitimo,” I said, once again carefully stroking his cheek, “You needn’t beg, not ever, only say what you wish for and it shall be yours.”

“I wish to be yours, my Lord Fingon,” Maitimo murmured.

I decided to stop thinking then and just let my fëa guide me. I found myself leaning in and pressing my lips against Maitimo’s. I knew it was right when I felt his fëa surge to my own, fairly grasping for it as his hand did mine. I knew at once that everything would be alright for us now, we had one another and where there was life: hope.


End file.
